


Mistletoe

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-18
Updated: 2002-02-18
Packaged: 2019-05-15 14:57:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14792672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: A holiday story.





	Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**The Mistletoe**

**by:** Dee 

**Disclaimer:** They're mine. Yeah that's right! I own them. (I just wanted to see if lightening would strike… it didn't.) 

**Category:** humor/general 

**Spoilers:** through TIITL 

**Rating:** YTEEN 

**Author's Note:** I'm taking a break from the Fix series. I'm not really sure where I want to go with that yet and this story came to me pretty clearly so I thought I would write it. It's a little cliché but what the heck… it's the holiday season. 

I am magic. I always have been and I always will be. A gift from the gods. Sometimes there is a terrible price to be paid for being gifted. My life is not my own to live in peace in harmony with nature, as I would wish. 

Often I have been ripped away from my home in the dead of winter only to be hanged. 

It's the magic they want. And since it is my lot in life to take part in this never-ending ritual, I give it to those I can. I hang above their heads sprinkling down on those people within my reach the gift of love until time passes and my leaves dry up and turn brittle and… I die. 

Don't be sad. It's the cycle of life. And there is satisfaction in the giving. Sometimes I know I have truly made a difference and changed forever the course of two lives. 

Sometimes people resist the magic. 

This year I have been snatched away by a very official looking sort of person. Mostly I close myself to the pain of the cutting not caring where it is they take me to string me up. But this year my captor spoke to me of a grand white palace where I will serve at the pleasure of a very important man. 

It makes little difference to me. The magic is not more powerful for some than it is for others. A person need not be rich or important or brilliant or talented to be loved. It is one of love's more endearing qualities. 

They hanged me on a quiet day. A few people milled about nobody seemed to pay attention to the process. There I was with my leaves and berries ruthlessly secured to a doorway. When it was over I looked about for someone to fall within my reach so that I could begin the giving process, but no one stopped. 

No one even knew I was there. 

"Hey… mistletoe." 

At last! It was the second day of my sentence and I was beginning to despair that I would give my gift to no one. People moved at lightening fast speed. No one stopped long enough to look, certainly no one stopped long enough to receive. 

But this one man did. He seemed a nice fellow. Dark hair and glasses and a crisp white shirt. But he stood alone and so he was ineligible. 

"Sam what are you doing?" This from an old gruffer sort who pulled at his beard and made me think that he more than anyone needed my gift. 

"Look it's…" 

"Whatever, where are those projected numbers from the OMB?" 

"Bonnie is on her way over there now…" 

And then they began to move past me and my first opportunity was lost. 

"Margaret!" 

"I'm right here." 

"I need the thing." 

"It's in your hand." 

"Not this thing, the other thing. The blue one." 

The red headed woman nodded and left the older man standing within my reach. These two needed a different kind of magic. They had not the gift of romantic love, but certainly the gift of steady enduring appreciated love. He needed to be reminded of that. 

When she returned to hand the man the blue folder I closed my eyes and let myself give. 

The woman named Margaret looked up and saw me. She smiled and I smiled back. 

Then she kissed the older man's cheek. 

"What in the hell are you doing?" 

"Merry Christmas, Leo," she said pointing up to where I was fastened. 

He grumbled a little and shuffled his feet. "Okay, but don't do that again it freaks me out." 

They moved past me and I felt better about the day. 

Later that afternoon the one they called Sam, the first to notice me, stopped under the doorway again. He seemed to be studying the papers in his hands but I knew better. So did he. He wanted the magic. But no one came. 

Eventually he looked up at me and frowned then continued on his way. 

"Donna!" 

"You're shouting." 

"I'm not shouting." 

"Ginger did you just hear Josh," the blond girl asked of the strawberry blond who walked by them. 

"Yes, he was shouting." 

"See," the blond woman told the man. They were close. They were standing by a wall built of cubby boxes. The blond woman was placing something in each box and the man came up to stand behind her. They needed the magic. I could see it right from the beginning. It was in his voice when he shouted her name. It was in her smile when she spotted him. But there was a wall there between them and I knew that she didn't hear it in his voice and he didn't see it in her smile. Only they were just out of my reach…. close… but not close enough. 

"Whatever, what does my schedule look like today?" 

"You're done with meetings by three. Why?" 

"Because Jillian wants to go out tonight." 

"Oh." 

"Did you just roll your eyes?" 

"Why would I do that?" 

"I don't know. I just said Jillian and you … there! You did it again." 

"I did not do it again. I didn't do it the first time. You're loosing it Lyman." 

"Jillian." 

The blond woman turned to him and smiled. But she wasn't really smiling. I could tell. 

"Your schedule's free." 

"Fine. Because you know you have no right to roll your eyes." 

"Josh, I didn't…" 

"She's perfectly nice." 

"If you say so." 

"And it's not like you have any right to be jealous." 

"Why would I be jealous of you and Jillian?" 

"There!" the man shouted. "You did it again!" 

"You're delusional and I have work." 

"Okay," he said walking away. But he turned back twice to watch her. 

Next time they needed to get a little closer. 

But another day passed. I could feel myself drying up. My berries were shriveling. My leaves were fading. It wouldn't be too much longer now. 

"I'm too sexy for my…" 

"CJ will you stop singing that song." The gruff man was back and his words had stopped a taller woman in her tracks directly under me. 

"I can't help it. Every time I see him give a press conference it just pops right in there and I can't shake it." 

I smiled. These two were friends. I could sense something between them. Not a future, but a past. I decided to give them the gift of a sweet memory. 

"Try. When are we doing the Christmas photo ops…" The gruff man stopped and lifted his head. If I had hands I would have waived to him. I felt him remember another time, another place, a feeling. "Hey, come here." He tugged on the taller woman's arm and brought her closer to him. He kissed her sweetly on the lips. 

"Tobias Ziegler, you rogue you," she said although I could hear in her voice that she had remembered the feeling too. 

He pointed up at me. "It's sort of like you have to," he mumbled. 

"Just what everyone woman wants to hear after a man has kissed her. I'm planning on pictures as soon as Zoe…" 

The two moved on and I marveled at the transformation from love to friendship. It was truly the best type of migration because the love never really went away. 

I looked down again to find the dark haired one. I so desperately wanted to give him my magic but once again he stood alone underneath my leaves and berries. No magic for him. 

"This just sucks…" he muttered and was once again on his way. 

"So Donna," the man from before said to the blond woman as he emerged from his office. She was standing next to a large machine feeding paper into it. I tried to stretch my magic but once again they were just out of my reach it. "Where is it?" 

"Where is what?" 

"My list." 

"What list?" 

"You know the list you give me every year of gifts I have to chose from for you. I don't have my list and it's getting late." 

The woman he called Donna turned to him. "I didn't make a list for you this year." 

"You didn't." 

"No." 

"Why?" 

"Because… because I didn't. I really shouldn't be giving you a list. Don't you think it's rude?" 

"Yes, but that's never stopped you before." 

"Josh, it's not like you ever use the list." 

"But it's helpful for thematic purposes." 

"Well, I don't have a list. And you don't have to get me anything." 

"Who are you and what have you done with Donna?" 

"I'm serious. You've done more than enough for me this year already. You should be spending your money on your mother… and Jillian." Donna walked away from him. 

"You so just rolled your eyes," he called after her. 

"Did not." 

I could feel my strength waning. I lost count of the number of days I had been hanging, but I knew that the end was near. I tried to be brave but it always got scary toward the end. I knew I would be back and the cycle would begin again, but there was always that fear… fear of the dark. 

I felt my magic drying up and I wondered at this point if I had any left to give. 

"Here," the man called Josh said trapping the woman against the wall near the door where I hung. He was close this time, very close. 

"What's this?" 

He handed her a gift wrapped in pretty purple paper. "Just open it." 

She tried not to smile, but she did. "I told you not to." 

"Just open it." 

She removed the wrapping and stared down at the book in her hands. "It's a diary," she said hoarsely. 

"You said you got rid of the other one so I thought this… It's blank. You know a fresh start and all. Except I wrote on the first page." 

She opened the cover of the book and read the first page. She chuckled but there were tears behind the laughter. 

They so badly needed me at that moment. I closed myself and tried to concentrate spreading my magic as far as I could, stretching and reaching, feeling it ebb from me as I did so. Just a little closer… 

"Hey look, it's mistletoe," Josh said. He pushed the girl called Donna back a step until they were standing directly underneath me. 

She looked up at me, then at him. He leaned down to kiss her and she let him. Then his arms circled her waist, and her arms circled his neck the book still firmly clenched in her hand. Then he was falling backwards against the wall and she was lifting herself on to his body. 

Around them, people passed by. Each going about their duties and errands, all of them oblivious to the magic that was happening in the corner. 

Finally, they released each other. And she fell back a couple of steps clearly moved by the power of the magic. It could be such a strong thing. An overwhelming thing really. And often it all began with just a simple kiss. 

"Merry Christmas, Donna," he whispered still tasting her on his breath I was sure. 

"Thank you… for my gift." 

"You know they're having punch and stuff downstairs before we all leave." 

"Toby said he was going to spike it," she smiled at him. 

"Let's go." He reached out his hand and she took it. And I knew that my job was done. It had started and now it was just a matter of time. 

And it was a good thing too because the darkness was at hand. I could feel myself drifting off only this time there was no fear. I had given all of my gifts away and now it was time for the natural order of things to occur. I closed myself for the final time and drifted off into the night. 

"Come with me." 

"Where are we going?" 

"Just stand underneath this doorway with me." 

"Why?" 

"Because I'm asking you to." 

"Sam, I think the campaign is finally starting to get to you." 

"Look Connie, you were the only woman I could find now will just stand here for a second." 

"But they're serving punch downstairs and I don't want to miss it." 

"I'll make sure you get some punch. Now just stand here." 

The two waited for a moment and Sam looked up at the mistletoe. 

"Well?" 

"Nothing," he muttered bitterly and started to walk away. 

"Does this mean I don't get my punch?" 


End file.
